innocence they have themselves lost."
"They require it the more, the less they have of it, my lord.html">lord.html">lord."
"To require without any return, is to act as a master to his slave; by
eyes of the world."
"But they kill a woman that is false?" said Djalma, raising himself
lurid fire.
"They kill her, my lord, as with us--when they find her out."
"Despots like ourselves! Why then do these civilized men not shut up
my lord."
"All this is sad enough, if true," observed Djalma, with a pensive air,
figurative language familiar to the people of his country.html">country; "yes, your
flower are as hearts that mingle in a pure and virgin love; and two rays
eternal joys of lovers joined in wedlock."
Djalma spoke.html">spoke of the pure enjoyments of the soul with inexpressible grace,
stars; he shuddered slightly, his nostrils swelled, the pale gold of his
reverie.
Faringhea, having remarked this emotion, thus spoke: "If, like the proud
pleasures to solitary and monotonous amours--handsome, young, rich as you
phantoms of your nights--charming tormentors of your dreams--were you to
as desires--do you not think that many a half-veiled eye would borrow
delights of a single love, the heavy chain of our life--no, it would be
beauties, whom happy love would make your slaves. So long constrained,
you, the ardent, the magnificent son of our country, that would become
would soon have for you no looks but those of languor and passion."
Djalma had listened to Faringhea with silent eagerness. The expression
and dreaming youth, invoking the sacred remembrance of his mother, and
.
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